What Makes You Feel
by Regina Halliwell
Summary: After Jess's pep talk in "Summer," Rory does some thinking and makes a few decisions about how to make her life less of a trash fire. Spoilers for A Year in the Life up through Summer.


_You need to find something to write that you're passionate about._

 _What is that foreign concept you speak of, passion? Is that really a thing?_

 _You've just gotta find that thing that makes you feel, so that your readers feel it. What makes you feel?_

Passion. She hadn't felt it in years. Not in her dating life, not in her work, not in anything.

Sure, she liked writing, still, but there was nothing that really drove her. She had lost all her rosy hopes and dreams about her future and her career and what was left was Rory's desperation to find something, anything, that would lead her to that magical perfect job she had hoped would just fall into her lap. She would never be Christiane Amanpour now. Did she even want that anymore? She wanted _something_. Something to pay the bills, something to give her life purpose. Something to bring back that passion and certainty she had once felt.

She hadn't felt the spark in her romantic relationships in years either. The fact that she couldn't even remember to break up with Pete—damn it, Paul, for over a year was a testament to how disassociated from her own life Rory actually was. And sleeping with a Wookiee? And what _was_ she doing with Logan? She didn't even have to pretend to be the cool girl anymore; Rory had no real investment beyond passing the time, feeling Logan's attention on her, trying to recapture something long-gone. She couldn't even remember the last time she was truly, ecstatically happy.

She was just lost, wandering, hopeless. Rory had to admit it, she fit in with the 30-something Gang more than she wanted to acknowledge. And Jess could see it, see how uprooted she was, living here and there, out of boxes. He said "nothing permanent" was happening in his life, but Rory didn't even know where she was sleeping from one night to the next. She had practically bankrupted herself flying back and forth to London for that stupid failed Naomi Shropshire book project… no, she couldn't even lie to herself, she had been flying back and forth for Logan. For that idiotic "what happens in Vegas" arrangement that made Rory feel like she was just as idiotic as she was in her late teenage years.

God, what was she doing?! Jess was settled, he had figured all his shit out. He was taking care of himself; he owned a share in a business—a flourishing, stable business; he was a published author! Rory let Luke flatter her with his proud fatherly praise because she needed to believe that her talk piece mattered; she let herself keep coasting off of that 10 minutes of mediocre fame rather than actually doing something else with her life. She didn't even try any more. Her half-assed efforts to put herself out there were foregone conclusions.

Even the one thing she had always had—or almost always, except when she had screwed it up—was her relationship with her mom. But now her mom had Luke, and the Dragonfly, and her own issues to deal with, and 32 year-olds shouldn't need to rely on their mothers anyway. God, she was 32. What was happening? What was she doing with her life?

Aren't these types of crises supposed to hit people in their mid-twenties, when they realize all their higher education didn't do them any good and now they had to figure out their place in the real world? What had she `been doing in her mid twenties? Floating around, capitalizing off her press gig with the Obama campaign… not much more. What major thing—New Yorker aside—could she claim she had accomplished in the past nine years?

Rory took another gulp of the liquor stashed in her desk drawer. When did she start drinking so much? When did this become who she was?

Who was she?

 _With you, what's going on with you?_

 _I know you, I know you better than anyone. This isn't you._

 _What are you doing? Living at your grandparents' place, being in the DAR, no Yale. Why did you drop out of Yale?!_

 _This isn't you, Rory, you know it isn't. What's going on?_

Was this her? Is this the Rory Gilmore that she was always going to be? Where did she go wrong. And why did Jess always seem to know her better than she knew herself?

Existential crisis, identity crisis, financial crisis… Rory was coming up short on all counts. Who the hell was she, and what was she doing with her life? At this rate, she would still be a nomad at 40. Hopefully by then she would have some new underwear.

This was just sad.

Rory Gilmore, complete failure of a person. Trash fire of a person, more like it. She had been a cheater, again. Helped someone else cheat, again. God, she needed to break up with Paul.

Rory pulled out her phone right then and ripped the band-aid off, sending him a short message about how things just weren't working and she wished him all the best.

Break up with Paul, check.

One less shitty thing making her a shitty person.

Now Logan.

Rory swept the phone screen to her favorites list, saw her mom, and Lane, and Luke, and Paris. And then down at the bottom, there he was. She tapped his name, let the phone dial.

"Logan," she greeted when he picked up.

"Ace," he said, a smile in his voice. "How you doing?"

"I'm… I don't know. I'm calling because we need to end this, Logan. It's time. It was fun while it lasted, but I can't keep being this person. I don't like being this person."

She heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"I don't love her," he said, his fiancée a political choice, not a personal one.

"It doesn't matter," she said, trying to sound sure. "Even if she weren't in the picture, I shouldn't be with anyone right now. I need to figure some stuff out first."

"You're gonna be okay, Ace. All this career stuff with work itself out. You're a great writer, a great journalist. You'll figure it out. You don't have to cut me out."

"I really do," she insisted. "Bye, Logan."

Another sigh. "I'm here if you want to talk, whenever," he said. Neither of them said 'I love you.'

Rory hung up, in tears not because of what she had just done but because Logan was the only thing that did occasionally make her feel, even if it was just in bed. He was good at making her laugh, especially when she really needed it.

Wiping her eyes, Rory mentally crossed off another task. Break it off with Logan, check.

She was a better person already.

What could she do? She could start by strong-arming Taylor into a salary for running the Stars Hollow Gazette. She was doing a lot of work, dammit, and he had gotten her to do things for him her whole childhood. What good was a town selectman anyway if he couldn't appropriate funds to support cultural institutions like the Gazette?

They needed new computers, and maybe even a staff. No offense to Esther or Charlie, but maybe some Stars Hollow High journalism students could intern there, or something. Rory couldn't do it all on her own, especially if she wasn't being compensated.

She could do what Jess had suggested, think about writing about her and her mom. That wouldn't be so terrible, but would anyone want to publish it? Would anyone want to read it?

She could write a chapter and see what happened. She could reach out to her connections in the field and see if there was anyone doing anything interesting—not like Sandee Says, of course, but something different. Something to give her something to work towards. Maybe Bitch Media or Slate again. Just to keep her relevant.

Is that what she wanted to do? Did she even still want to be a journalist? Should she be trying to get a correspondent job?

Ugh, too much thinking, too many uncertainties. Rory didn't know what she wanted.

 _Do it, come with me. Don't think about it. You don't think you could do it, but you can. You can do whatever you want._

 _It's what I want; it's what you want too._

 _You know we're supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you two years ago and you know it too._

Rory had to figure out what she wanted. Maybe also _who_ she wanted. And who she wanted to be.

She meant what she said to Logan. She should really be alone right now. Maybe spend some time bonding with her mom again. Or with her grandma. Emily Gilmore could certainly use the company these days.

But there was always that hint of an idea in the back of her head, that reminded of a time when she _did_ feel something. When she knew what she wanted more than anything, what she'd skip school and break up with the world's most perfect boyfriend and even compromise herself a little bit to have.

What was it about Jess that always brought her back? Was it just that she was so certain at that time, so focused on her goal of Harvard (and then Yale) that she felt certain about him too? Rory remembered the fluttery feeling she got when she thought of their relationship. She had been head over heels for that boy, so passionate and desperate for him, and he made her want him in ways she hadn't known she could want a boy before.

It wasn't fair, really, that here she was, having had only three serious relationships in her life—Dean, Jess, and Logan—and the one of them that she had really wanted to sleep with she never had. Even Dean, sweet Dean whose devotion always made Rory feel loved and cherished, had been with her in ways Jess never had. They had taken that step that Rory had never gotten to with her second boyfriend. But she had been with Dean—however you might define their relationship the second time—she had even gone back to him. Maybe for the safety, maybe because she didn't have control and certainty for the first time in her life.

And Logan, how she had tried to be what Logan wanted, and then tried to make Logan be what she wanted. Rory and Logan's relationship, with all their breakups and arrangements and fights and fun and everything, was complicated to say the least. They were never what the other person needed them to be, not at the right time anyway. Rory didn't want to be a Huntzberger—didn't even want the Gilmore status, really—but she had loved him, she thought. He may not have been right but he was okay at the time. Not her greatest love, perhaps, but her longest.

But Jess. Jess, who was always there to pick her back up, who believed in her more even than she believed in herself. Jess, who had gone from hating everyone but her to being an only slightly misanthropic, successful, well-adjusted adult…who had certainly not let himself go. While Rory had devolved into a mess of a person, Jess had become the man she always believed him to be. Intelligent, passionate, ambitious… she was a complete failure and Jess was the one who had his shit together. Who could have seen this coming?

Jess, who loved her and ran away from her and challenged her and believed in her and didn't let her down even when he did.

She hadn't thought she could run away with him then, and it was probably right that she didn't. Where would she be now if they had gone off together to New York? No Yale for Rory, no Philly for Jess. They had both done what they needed to do.

But Jess hadn't let his considerable obstacles prevent him from doing what he loved. And Rory couldn't even figure out what she wanted, despite every privilege that she had.

She wasn't sure if he ever thought about her, like this, about them back in the day. God, had it really been more than a decade since they broke up? Eleven years since they had last kissed, that horrible day at Truncheon Books. She was a terrible person even then.

Rory needed to grow up, and make some decisions because they were what she needed or wanted, and then she needed to follow through and deal with whatever consequences came.

Did he ever think about her?

She thought about him often—all the time, really. How different her life might be, how happy she could be.

 _Don't get the wrong idea; I'm just here temporarily. It's a long story._

 _Time off…_

 _Are you nervous?_

 _A little. It's been a long time._

 _I'm a little nervous too._

 _I couldn't have done it without you_.

She would never forget some of those conversations between her and Jess. He claimed to owe so much to her. She had made him a better person, and he had certainly tried to do the same for her.

She had been less nervous when he showed up at the Stars Hollow Gazette than she could have been had she known he was coming. Jess seemed to always pop back into her life just when she needed him. It wasn't as awkward as it could have been. So many unspoken things between them.

A stiff drink always helped.

How many years had it been? At least four. When had she last seen him? Was it Christmas a few years back? That must have been it. Rory had gotten so preoccupied with her own things that they had both fallen out of touch, and with how things had been left at her last visit to Philly, it was hardly surprising. He had carried a torch for her even then, and she had fucked it up.

She couldn't have done it without him, either. She didn't know how long it would have taken her to go back to Yale without his much-needed intervention. She should have listened to him about the other things, though. Breaking it off with Logan much earlier might have saved them both some trouble.

And now, here, when she had nothing going for her, Jess was still able to pick her back up and put her back together, like he always had. He was the only one who could truly break her, and she him. They were orbiting each other in this weird way, always on the periphery of each other's lives, related by the people that loved them most but never in the same place at the same time.

Rory was aware that she should be doing all this for herself, or maybe for her mom, who had broken her back trying to put Rory ahead in life. But most of all, she wanted to get her act together for Jess. She wanted to be the girl he had fallen in love with again. She wanted to deserve him, like he had worked so hard to deserve her.

It was a terrible reason to do anything, she knew. Never follow a boy to school Never give up on your dreams to support his. Never sacrifice your own plans, your own future for a boy. But what if Jess _was_ her future? Rory considered how the two of them somehow kept coming back to each other, how even though they never talked about it they both knew how much they meant to one another.

Did he still care for her like that? Did his stomach still clench when she appeared? Did his heart beat a little faster when she was around? Did he wish to go back to a time when they could talk about books and music and life and feel like they were meant for each other. He had pursued her so doggedly, and she had always found a reason not to be with him. Maybe she had run out of chances.

Rory wanted to be a better person for him, she wanted to be the person that he knew she could be, and she wanted to be with him.

 _I hate this. I don't deserve this, Rory._

 _Love, huh? I guess I'll call Matthew's poet, have him explain love to me. Poets know all about it, right?_

 _It's what it is, you, me._

Rory made a decision.

She knew where he'd be, where he always was. His place. Their place.

Rory walked toward the bridge, seeing his muscular form in the almost-twilight, feet dangling over the edge, dangerously close to the water. His long hair fell in his face, and he swiped it behind his ear, then turned the page of his paperback.

The more things change, she thought, seeing just how little they had. He was different, she was different, and yet, here they were.

That part of her brain that tried to think rationally reminded her that she had just broken up with Logan, saying she shouldn't be with anyone right now.

Jess wasn't anyone. Jess was _the_ one. On some level, she had known they should be together since that first day when he stole her copy of _Howl_ to write notes in the margins for her. He had said it, and she had denied it, but Rory knew it was true.

When her feet hit the wood of the bridge, Jess looked up, surprised another person was there. He saw her and smiled. "Looking for a third course?" he asked.

"I think I should try out some of the other food groups first," she joked. He nodded, closing his book and setting it aside.

"So," he said, looking at her. "What brings you to my bridge on this fine August evening?"

"Your bridge?" she asked. "I kind of think of this as _our_ bridge."

The twinkle in his eyes brightened, and she was encouraged that he didn't correct her.

"Our bridge, then. What made you visit our bridge, Rory?"

"I wanted to ask you something, if that's okay."

"Ask away."

"Just, listen, will you? And don't laugh at me. I know we have both had issues communicating with each other in the past. Though, this bridge does seem to be where we have a lot of our important conversations…"

"What is it, Rory?" he asked, impatiently.

"Do you ever think about us?" she asked, looking out at the water.

"As in, do I ever think back to the good old four and a half months we were in a relationship over a decade ago?"

She scoffed, tilted her head to glare at him.

He laughed, but then became more serious. "Of course I think about it. Living in Stars Hollow gave me some of the best and worst times of my life, so of course it provides ample fodder for writing inspiration. Angst is all the rage, you know."

She didn't seem to get the answer she wanted, so instead she just started rambling.

"I just, I feel like we never really got the timing right. I was with Dean, and then you had that thing with school and your dad, and then I was at Yale and freaking out, and then with Logan, and it just seems like we keep coming back to each other. Like we're not really… finished, yet. Like our story's not over."

When he didn't respond, Rory continued.

"And I don't know, I feel really lost and confused and aimless and dispassionate about a lot of things in my life. I haven't felt much of anything in a long while, I'm just going through the motions hoping something will shock me out of this weird spiral I'm in. But there's one thing that hasn't really changed in all that time we've spent apart, in all this chaos that is my life, and that's what I feel about you." She looked at him, trying to interpret his inscrutable gaze.

"You're hardly the Holden Caulfield you were when I first met you, sure, but you're still _you_ , Jess. Everything that I fell for is still there, and more, and I know this is probably really narcissistic and embarrassing and you should feel free to push _me_ in to the lake if I'm screwing everything up here, but I just thought maybe… maybe you still feel that way about me, too."

She got up the courage to look him in the eyes, then, and saw that he, too, was fighting several different thoughts. Confusion. Awe. Shock. Love? Was that love she saw there. She had seen that look on him before. That pained, desperate expression, daring to show itself despite the fear it would all be for nothing.

"I'm wrong, okay, no harm no foul," Rory started, trying to give them both the space to backpedal if they needed to.

"You're not wrong," he croaked, needing that drink now.

"I'm not?" she asked, her voice sounding distant and strange.

"Is this another Philadelphia, Rory? Am I going to lean in to kiss you only to find out that this is some cruel joke?"

That stung. But he was right to call her out. He was always the one to call her out. She needed that.

"I, uh. I broke it off with Paul," she admitted. "And I…" she swallowed nervously. "I was having an affair with Logan, but I ended that too."

"So I'm sloppy thirds, now?" he asked, hurt but not saying no. "Here for you when you need me, when it's convenient. Get Rory's life back together so she can go be with someone else?"

Oof.

"I know I've hurt you," she said. "I don't want to do that again. You asked me what makes me feel, Jess, and only one thing comes to mind. It's painful, and wonderful, and scary, and confusing, but it's real."

"So, what now, Rory? What do you want?"

Instead of speaking, Rory leaned in, her hand grasping the nape of his neck, his long hair threaded through her fingers. He resisted, worried too much that this would all vanish in an instant. She persisted, trying to show him that this time he didn't have to chase her, that she _wanted_ him. Wanted to be with him. That the past fifteen years had just made this moment even more perfect. That when he told her they were supposed to be together, she had believed it too.

It was a few moments more, but Jess finally responded, pulling Rory in closer to him, his hand grasping her waist, his tongue mingling with hers. Rory felt a groan come out of her own mouth, a response to the agony of these feelings he gave her, the desire she felt for him.

Jess pulled away reluctantly and sighed.

"I'm not a bestselling author. Truncheon does okay, but not great. I still haven't been to college—who knows if I'll ever go, if I'll ever make enough money to "settle down," buy a house, have kids. I don't have much to offer you, Rory," he warned.

She smiled, brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, and responded, "Well, what is much?" He laughed, her words mirroring his on the night they met. He still seemed unsure, but if she was willing to try, then he couldn't let this opportunity pass. Rory was the love of his life, and he had known it since the day he met her.

Rory leaned in, offering him another kiss, and another, and as many as it would take to make sure he knew that this time she was all in.

 _Dean was right…about all of it._

 _I don't want to talk to anybody else. I don't like anybody else._

 _Think how dull your life would be without me._

 _I might have loved you. / I love you._


End file.
